Lolek
by MeanRunt
Summary: Nick remembers an old friend.


**Forever Knight**

**Lolek**

&&&&&&&&&&

This is a complete work of fiction. World Youth Day Toronto really happened. (We were there!) However, the events described there and everywhere else in this story occurred only in our overactive imaginations.

Except for Karol Wojtyla - Pope John Paul II - all other characters are fictitious. A few of them however, do bear a very passing resemblance to actual persons. To those people … and to the memory of Pope John Paul II ... we mean no disrespect.

BTW - Last Knight did not happen.

**&&&&&&&&&&**

**Toronto** **April 2, 2005**

Nick Knight stared at the TV screen, red tears streaming down his face. "It's hard to believe he's gone." He said, wiping his face. "I know he was old and very ill, and that he's now in a better place, but he was one of the truly great figures of our time. Or just about any other time, for that matter. He was bigger than life. I shall miss him very much."

"That's right." Natalie Lambert said. "You did meet him once, didn't you?"

"I was part of the security team that was assigned to him when he came here for World Youth Day in 2002."

"I remember, but something tells me there's more to the story than just that."

&&&&&&&&&&

**Toronto** **July 2002**

" ... And so, ladies and gentlemen, this is what will be required of you while the Holy Father is here in Toronto." The priest said to the group of police officers assembled in the conference room of the Archbishop's residence. "You have been given your instruction manuals." He held up a thick blue folder. "And you have all been thoroughly briefed by your respective superiors prior to his arrival. This meeting is just to reinforce those briefings and give you any last minute changes. As I told you at the beginning of this briefing, my name is Monsignor Jeroz Staneck. I am His Holiness's secretary. If there are any questions or problems, you will bring them to me. As far as you are concerned, I have the last word. Is that clear?" Everyone nodded agreement. "Good. That is all. You may go now." As the group prepared to leave, the phone on the desk rang. Monsignor Staneck picked it up.

"Yes, Holy Father ... A blond haired man? ... Yes Holy Father, there is a blond detective here ... In your chambers? ... But Holy Father, you are supposed to be resting ... But Holy Father … But …But … Yes, Holy Father ... Immediately, Holy Father." The priest sighed heavily as he replaced the phone on the base.

"Detective Knight." He said. "One moment, if you will."

Nick Knight stopped. "Is something wrong?" He asked.

"His Holiness would like to see you in his quarters." He led him to a doorway just down the hall from the conference room.

&&&&&&&&&&

Nick knelt in front of the white haired holy man. "Your Holiness." He said. He attempted to take the proffered hand and kiss the ring. But even touching the hand was painful for the vampire. Nick pulled his hand away. "I'm sorry, Holy Father." He said softly. "I can't."

"Klaus." John Paul said. "Fifty years ago, you knew me as Lolek Wojtyla. I know you have not changed since then, whereas I have gotten much older. But have I changed that much that you cannot recognize your friend?"

"No, Your Holiness. You haven't changed. I still recognize you."

"Then please. Call me by my name. Or must I put on jeans and a T-shirt again?"

&&&&&&&&&&

**Krakow, Poland** **1948**

Nicholas de Brabant drove his jeep through the rubble strewn streets of Krakow. His Red Cross unit was part of a multinational group assigned to help clear and rebuild the Polish city after the surrender of Germany. Although they were supposed to be working together, the Red Cross had encountered severe resistance to their efforts from the leaders of the Russian Army that occupied the country. Because of this, Krakow was essentially the same as it was on VE day, three years earlier. Little progress had been made to rebuild the city and there were still large pockets where the destruction was the norm. Particularly in the lesser parts of town. Like this section. It had once been a working class neighborhood, but now it was not much more than bombed and burned out shells. As he turned a corner, he heard the ominous rumbling sound of masonry toppling. Ahead, he could see the thick cloud of dust that accompanied the collapse of a building, or at the very least, a wall.

He stopped his jeep and ran toward the rubble. Using his enhanced senses, he could detect a heartbeat under the huge stones that had once been a rather large retaining wall. He carefully surveyed the area. Thankfully, there was no one else around. Almost as though they were made of foam, Nick heaved the massive chunks of concrete and stone off the pile. As he got closer to whoever was trapped, he could hear that the heart rate was strong and regular, although a bit fast. That was a good sign. Apparently, the person inside was only frightened, and not badly injured. As he got to the last layer, he could see that a part of the damaged wall was not completely broken, and that it had formed a tent of sorts against another part of the wall that was still intact. Inside this makeshift corridor was a man wearing a T-shirt and torn jeans. He looked up at Nick and grinned sheepishly. Nick offered his hand and pulled the young man to safety.

"Thank you." The man said, brushing dirt and bits of mortar from his hair. He checked himself thoroughly. "There are a few good sized cuts and some pretty bad bruises, but there doesn't seem to be any serious damage. "Nothing that a hot bath and a good night's sleep won't cure." He said, smiling broadly. "That will teach me to stay out past nightfall to try to finish a job." He held his hand to Nick. "By the way, my name is Karol Wojtyla. But my friends call me Lolek. Since you saved my life, I am going to think of you as my friend. I would be honored if you would call me Lolek too.

Nick closed his eyes and willed the vampire down. The scent of fresh blood was enticing, but because he had fed earlier ...courtesy of a herd of goats in the countryside ... it was not overpowering. Nick took his hand. It was extremely warm, but then, the man had just been nearly killed. His temperature was bound to be very high, if only because of the adrenaline coursing through his body. "I would be happy to call you friend. I am Nicholas de Brabant."

"I am pleased to meet you, Nee-ko-lahsh dey Bray-bone." Karol tried to imitate his rescuer's pronunciation. "That did not come out quite the way I wanted it to. Apparently my Polish tongue has a problem fitting itself around your French name." He said awkwardly. "Since Nicholas is Klaus in Polish, would it be all right if I just called you Klaus?"

"That would be very nice ... Lolek."

"Unfortunately, my ... transportation seems to have suffered more than I did in this unfortunate episode." He pointed to a mangled bicycle wheel sticking out of the rubble. "Do you think I might trouble you for a lift to my place? Just give me a minute or two to get my things from the bike." He left for a moment and returned with a worn but serviceable backpack.

&&&&&&&&&&

"Turn left at the next street." Lolek said. "It's the second one from the corner."

"But that's ... that's the rectory of St. Florian's Church." Nick gasped as they pulled up to the curb.

"Of course it is. Where else would a priest live?" He reached into the backpack and took out a folded garment. He carefully unfolded it and put it on. "One tends to get very dirty when one is digging through debris. Since I have only one cassock to my name, I didn't want to get it torn and dirty as well." He said smiling softly. "Now. Would you like to come in for a while? The least I can do to thank you for saving my life is to offer you some refreshment."

"No! I ... I can't. I ... I'm sorry. I have to get back to my quarters. I'm very late as it is." Even the sight of the young priest in his clerical robes was enough to make Nick uneasy. The thought of actually going onto church property was terrifying.

"Perhaps another time, then."

"Perhaps." Nick said as he started the jeep and sped away.

&&&&&&&&&&

**Toronto 2002**

"You were very nervous that first time, Klaus." Pope John Paul said smiling. The Pope had changed from his white robes to a pair of black slacks ... and a T-shirt. The two were sitting in a pair of overstuffed easy chairs. "I thought you were going to explode when you found out I was Father Wojtyla."

"No. I wouldn't have exploded. Although I might have … spontaneously ignited … if I had gone into the church."

"I know that now. Eventually though, you did come into the rectory."

"But as I remember it, that was not of my own doing."

&&&&&&&&&&

**Krakow** **1948**

The sounds of the woman's screams were loud enough that even without his enhanced hearing, Nicholas could not have missed them. As he turned onto Slawkowska Strasse, he saw three Russian soldiers dragging a woman into the alley beside the **tiny Stary Theater annex. It was very obvious that she did not want to be with them. In seconds, he was in the alley as well.**

"Let her go!" He demanded.

"You think you are going to make us ... zagranechne venya? (foreign pig?)**" The soldier nearest to him spat. "We are the conquerors of this country. Everything and everyone in it belongs to us. Including this ... prastetutka.** (whore.)" He grabbed the woman and roughly kissed her.

"Please, Sir." The terrified woman cried as he released her mouth. "I am nothing like that. I am a waitress at the restaurant down the street. They were waiting for me when I got off work. They ... "

Her words were smothered as the soldier savagely kissed her once again. He yelled as she bit his lip and then brutally slapped her across the face. "Sootka! (Bitch!)" He swore at her and hit her again.

Nick grabbed him and pulled him off her. A second later, he stiffened as the butt of one of the other soldier's rifle rammed into the small of his back. He felt several of the vertebrae shatter. The pain was intense, but fortunately the spinal cord was still intact. He turned on his attacker. His eyes were red-orange and his fangs had descended to their full depth. He grabbed the hapless Russian and callously sank his teeth into his neck. The other two soldiers emptied their guns into him and then ran for their lives down the street. "Ompear! Ompear! (Vampire!) Ohrawd! Ohrawd! (Monster!)" They screamed as they fled.

From the entrance to the alley, Father Karol Wojtyla watched awe struck at the scenario being played out in front of him. Hesitantly, he made the sign of the cross.

The world began to waver and sway as Nick slumped to the ground and the blackness began to close in on him. One or more of the soldiers' bullets had completed what his attacker's rifle butt had started. His spine was now severed. Until it could regrow, he was paralyzed. That could take the better part of a day. He did not have that much time. Already the bells of several of the churches in the area were tolling for early morning services. In another hour or so, it would be full daylight. By then it would not matter if his spine had regenerated or not. As soon as the sun came up, he would be nothing but a smoldering pile of ashes.

&&&&&&&&&&

Slowly, Nick opened his eyes. … A hand … Something red … Blood … Human ... Instinctively, he grabbed for it and hungrily began to devour the life giving liquid. He finished the contents of the clear glass bottle in only a few swallows. The blood started to work almost immediately. He could feel his spine beginning to repair itself. Already his toes were starting to tingle. Gradually the world came into sharper focus. Karol Wojtyla stood over him holding another pint of blood.

"I thought you might need this when you awoke." He said as took the cap and the protective rubber nipple from another IV bottle and handed it to Nick. "It took a little creative lying, for which I am certain I shall have to go to confession, to persuade a friend of mine who works at the hospital to give me several pints of outdated blood. I told him that I wanted to … fertilize my flowerbeds … with it. He believed me."

As soon as Nick had emptied the second bottle, Karol gave him another one.

"You saw what happened …?" This time he sipped on the sanguine fluid. By now, sensation and some limited mobility had returned to most of his lower body.

Lolek nodded. "I was on my way from the rectory to the church to prepare for morning Mass when I heard the shouts in the alley. By the time I got there, you had your fangs in that soldier's neck."

"Then you saw what I am? Why didn't you run screaming?"

"Of course I saw what you are. You are a wampyr." He smiled softly. "As for why I didn't run, do not look so surprised, Klaus. I am Polski after all. Transylvania is only a little over a hundred kilometers away. For a short time during the seventeenth century, it was even a part of Poland. I was raised on tales of vampires, werewolves and other creatures of the night. I never doubted for a moment that they existed. Now I have proof that the tales are true. I am talking to one of these mythical creatures. I am not afraid of you. Curious, yes … but not afraid."

"You should be afraid. Very afraid. You are a man of God. I am the exact opposite. I am evil incarnate. A malevolent creature without a soul and without any hope of redemption. How can you even stand to be around me? You saw what I did. I murdered that soldier in cold blood. I drained him without even a second thought."

Karol smiled softly. "You are not evil, Klaus. Whether you believe it or not there is much good in you. I can see that. And I am sure that God can see it, too. You do have a soul. It may be battered and blemished, but it is still there. There is redemption for everyone. All you have to do is ask. He is always happy to accept one of his lost children back into His presence.

If you were as evil as you say you are, you would not have pulled me from that building a few days ago. And you would not have gone to Mariszka's rescue. That's the woman's name. Mariszka Dzrojehmn . She is one of my parishioners. She's a good woman. Her husband was killed by the Germans during the war, and she was left with two small boys to raise. Regardless of what you say, you did not deliberately murder that soldier. If anything, it was self defense. Hers as well as yours. He tried to kill you, after all. And rape her. If you hadn't stepped in, he, or one or all of his ... companions surely would have taken her. And probably killed her as well. Don't worry. Mariszka did not see anything out of the ordinary. That is, if you consider seeing someone gunned down right before your eyes ... ordinary. Your back was to her while you were ... changed ... and she fainted almost as soon as the gunshots started."

"What about the police?"

"Everyone thinks you are dead, Klaus. Your body was riddled with bullets. You weren't breathing. You had no pulse or heartbeat. You were cold to the touch. You did not respond to any stimulation. Those are usually extremely convincing signs of death. I managed to persuade the police to release the ... body to me for a 'proper Christian burial'. They were almost relieved to do so. I convinced them that an autopsy wasn't really necessary. It was evident what had happened. A pomylony dziwniejszy (crazy stranger) was killed while attacking a Rosyjski zolnier (Russian soldier). The soldier is dead, and his killer is dead. That was enough to satisfy them. Trust me. They will not investigate too thoroughly."

"You should have left me in the alley. You put yourself in grave danger by bringing me here. There are those among my kind ... Enforcers ... whose job it is to insure that no one knows of our existence. If anyone finds out, they deal with them. In some cases, permanently."

Karol Wojtyla shook his head slowly. "You talk to me of danger? I studied for the priesthood in an illegal clandestine seminary right under the noses of the Nazis. That was high treason. We were for all purposes, criminals and traitors to the Reich. If we had been discovered, we all would have been executed on the spot. Several of my friends were sent to concentration camps or killed for no other crime than being Polish. I am a Catholic priest in a Communist occupied country. I am in mortal danger every day that I open my eyes. Trust me. I know how to keep my mouth shut. Your ... Enforcers ... will get nothing from me."

He took a deep breath. "If it will help, I will put what I know under the seal of the confessional. It is the most solemn oath I can take. That means I cannot tell anyone, even if I wanted to, without risking censure and excommunication. And that's just for openers."

"I think that should satisfy the Enforcers, Lolek."

"Good. Now that that is settled, let me ask you a few questions. If I remember my childhood stories correctly, you cannot go out in the sunlight. Since it is ... " He checked his watch. " ... 1:45 in the afternoon, you will have to be here for at least another 6 hours. So, tell me, Klaus. How old are you?"

"I was brought across in 1228 ... "

&&&&&&&&&&

**Toronto 2005**

"I left St. Florian's as soon as the sun set. By midnight, I was on a train and halfway to Paris." Nick said.

"Did you ever go back?" Natalie asked.

"Oh yes. I returned to Poland on many occasions. Usually on De Brabant Foundation business. I made a point of avoiding any contact with him. It is an unwritten law that we cannot keep in contact with persons from previous … lifetimes."

"But you've done that several times. Katherine Barrington and the Tofflers, among others."

"I know, but Katherine was purely accidental, and the Tofflers are a long distance relationship. I did not meet Karol Wojtyla again until many years later. Although that too, was quite unplanned.

I was delivering supplies from the De Brabant Foundation to the Polish Red Cross aid station in one of the poorer sections of town. The rains had been extremely bad that spring, and the rivers and streams had become raging torrents, inundating most of the low lying areas. There was heavy destruction and loss of life. The Communist government was glad for our help. It meant there would be that much less for them to pay out of their own coffers."

&&&&&&&&&&

**Krakow** **1977**

Nicholas handed the box of blankets to one of the relief workers. He, in turn, passed it to another worker who passed it along the human chain until it reached the aid station. As soon as that box had been started on its way, Nick picked up another box and started the process over again. While he was reasonably dry and warm in the back of the semi trailer, he felt sorry for the other workers. For the most part, they were standing in mud and water that was almost knee deep in some places. In addition, most of them had barely enough clothes to cover their modesty, let alone protect them from the windy, bone chilling, rain soaked night air.

A young priest came sloshing through the mire and approached an older, slightly heavy set man in the line. He said something to him, and the man looked up. Nick froze. ( I don't believe it! It can't be! Not here! Not now! Not after all these years! ) He tried to fade into the shadows before the man saw him. He was too late.

"Klaus!" Karol Wojtyla called out, working his way to the trailer. "I thought that was you, but I wasn't completely certain." He pulled himself up on the tailgate and then stood up and embraced his old friend. Like before, his touch was hot, but not unbearably so.

"But Your Eminence." The young priest called. "The Monsignor has been looking everywhere for you. You really shouldn't even be out here in this ... this ... You could catch your death of cold. If not worse."

"Jeroz Staneck! You worry too much. And so does the Monsignor. This is exactly where I should be. Helping my people rebuild their homes and their lives after this disaster."

"Your Eminence?" Nick said, a puzzled look on his face as he surveyed the jean clad clergyman standing beside him.

Karol smiled broadly. For a moment. Nick thought he saw his friend blush slightly. "Yes. You heard correctly. Your Eminence. For better or worse, I am now Karol Cardinal Wojtyla, Archbishop of Krakow. But that is neither here nor there. At this particular moment in time, I am merely Lolek Wojtyla, Red Cross worker." He looked at his wet, mud covered pants and T-shirt and smiled conspiratorially. "A red cassock gets even dirtier than a black one, you know." He grinned and there was a mischievous twinkle in his hazel-brown eyes. "I have an idea. There is a tavern near here. Why don't the two of us go and have a few beers and talk about old times?" He eased himself off the truck. Nick motioned for one of the other workers to continue distributing the boxes, and followed the Cardinal.

"But your Eminence! You are scheduled to have dinner with Chairman Gierek. You barely have enough time to get back to the Chancery and get all this … " He grimaced disapprovingly. " … stuff … washed off."

"Cancel the dinner. Tell him I'm ill ... or dead ... or better yet, YOU have dinner with Chairman Gierek. You can be annoyed by him as well as I can. Nicholas ... " His pronunciation was nearly perfect. " ... is the ... son of an old friend. I am going to spend tonight with him." He looked at Nick. "And how is your ... father? I haven't heard from him in a long time."

"He ... ah ... died eight years ago." Nick picked up on the Cardinal's lead. "Quite suddenly. ( Thanks to the McCarthy hearings. )

"I'm sorry to hear that. He was a very good man. He saved my life when I was but a young priest myself." He explained to Father Staneck. "I shall continue to keep him in my prayers, as I have since the day we met."

"I'm sure … he … would appreciate that." Nick answered.

"But what about Chairman Gierek?" The young cleric asked.

"I SAID cancel it!" He gave him a withering glance. "We will only end up upsetting each other's digestion. Gierek knows my opinions. I have vented myself on him on more than one occasion. And he on me. This is one engagement that can easily be rescheduled at a later date. The later the better."

"But ... Your Eminence ... "

"You will have to excuse Father Staneck. He's my new assistant." He gave the young priest a fatherly pat on the cheek. "He is fresh from the seminary. The chrism is still wet on his forehead and his tonsure is only now beginning to grow back. He's a bright boy, though. He will learn quickly enough not to irritate me too constantly."

Father Staneck blushed deeply and proceeded to inspect the hem of his muddy cassock.

"Now then, Klaus. How about those beers? You said the last time we were … together that you could drink wine and whiskey. Can you drink beer as well?" Lolek asked.

"I don't know. I've never tried."

"Then there's no time like the present to find out." He put his arm around Nick's shoulder and led him toward the street.

&&&&&&&&&&

**Toronto 2005**

"A year later, he was the Pope."

&&&&&&&&&&

**Toronto 2002**

John Paul II leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. "As I remember it, Klaus, you could drink beer very well. In fact, you drank me under the table. And that is not an easy thing to do."

"My constitution is a great deal … stronger than a mortal's." Nick replied. "But I do not think you called me in here to discuss my ability to hold my liquour. By the way, how did you know I was here in the first place?"

Lolek smiled broadly. "Only if you promise not to say a word to Monsignor Staneck. He still behaves like a mother hen. Even more so than when we were in Krakow. As soon as you were all in the conference room, I snuck out of my rooms and watched what was going on through a crack in the door. I do that everywhere we go. My Swiss guards know better than to ... what is the word ... fink on me. I like to see who my keepers are going to be. You can imagine my surprise when I saw Nicholas de Brabant … " This time his pronunciation was flawless. " ... sitting there."

"I'm now called Nick Knight, Your Ho … Lolek."

"I know. Nicholas B. Knight. Detective. Toronto Metro Police. 96th Precinct. You see, I did my homework, too." He said with a certain measure of pride in his voice.

"Klaus Rycerz ... That's how your name translates in Polish. I like the sound of that. It fits you. Now I am positive I made the right decision. I called you in here because I have a favor to ask of you. I know you will help me.

Please don't misunderstand what I am about to say. I enjoy being the Pope. Doing God's work is my life's passion, and I would never for a moment even consider doing anything else. However … " He let out a long sigh, and a sad look crossed his face for a fraction of a second. "There are times when I miss the … how shall I put it … the intimacy of anonymity. I miss being able to go out in public without being constantly surrounded by throngs of people ... and escorts ... and guards ... and celebrities. Not to mention the hoards of paparazzi recording my every move for posterity. For just a little while, I long to be just plain Lolek Wojtyla, not Pope John Paul the Second. You will help me do that, won't you, Klaus?"

"But how do you think you are going to be able to pull that off?"

"This is what I have in mind. After tomorrow's ceremonies are over, come by my quarters. Say about one AM? Everyone should be asleep by then. I already checked the schedule. You will be one of the ones on duty. We will … "

&&&&&&&&&&

Nick knocked hesitantly on the door to the papal chambers. He had talked Mike Taylor into covering for him for a few hours and not saying anything to anyone. He reminded the young detective of the time when he had covered for him while he met with his fiancee when they were supposed to be on stakeout.

The door opened and Karol Wojtyla stood there. He was dressed in deep blue slacks and a light blue open necked knit shirt. A tan windbreaker and a pair of navy blue Nikes completed the outfit. The beige baseball cap sitting at a cocky angle on his head had a maple leaf embroidered on it. He smiled and beckoned Nick to come in.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Nick asked. "After all, you did have a very busy day, and you are supposed to be asleep."

Lolek grinned. "I am asleep." He pointed to a man shaped lump beneath the covers on his bed. "That should satisfy anyone who thinks to look. The drapes are pulled and the lights are off. Unless they inspect too closely, no one will know I am not there. I did take a nap earlier today. When they had scheduled me to take a nap. Usually I spend the time praying or reading, but this time I actually slept. I may not be in the best of health, but I am not nearly the frail, doddering, decrepit old … geezer they make me out to be."

"Aren't you worried that somebody will recognize you?"

"Klaus. You of all people should know that people see what they want to see. Nobody is expecting to see the Pope traipsing around Toronto at one AM, so no one will see the Pope. They will only see an elderly man with what could be his grandson."

"Something tells me you have done this before."

"Who? Me?" Lolek looked at Nick with absolute innocence. He took Nick's arm. "Shall we go?"

Nick reached into his pocket for his car keys and withdrew a sheet of paper. "Merde!" He said.

"Merde?" Lolek asked.

Nick held up the paper. "My time sheet. I was supposed to turn it in today ... that is, yesterday ... Before midnight. Do you mind if we stop at the precinct? If the payroll office doesn't have this when the timekeeper comes in at 0800 this morning, I don't get paid."

"I don't mind at all."

A 'suggestion' to the guard stationed at the rear entrance to the Archbishop's residence, and they slipped out 'unnoticed'. As far as anyone there was concerned, the Pope was sound asleep in his bed.

&&&&&&&&&&

"You wait here, Lolek." Nick said as he showed the elderly gentleman to a seat in the waiting area of the 96th precinct. "This won't take long."

It only took a few minutes to get to the after hours box mounted outside of the precinct timekeeper's office. It took a few more minutes to reset the punch clock to show that he had delivered his time sheet well before twelve o'clock, and then several additional minutes to reset the clock again to the correct time. It would have been faster if he didn't have to keep looking over his shoulder to make sure that no one saw him. No one had seen him.

Nick hurried back to the waiting room. "Well, I'm ready to ... " He stopped short. Karol Wojtyla was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's the man who came in with me?" He asked Vera Williams, the Desk Sergeant. "Older gentleman. White hair. Wearing dark blue slacks, a baseball cap, and a tan windbreaker."

"Oh, him." Vera replied. "He's been taken to the holding area. There's a ... " The Sergeant looked around. Nick was gone.

&&&&&&&&&&

Nick flew ... literally ... down the stairs to the basement cell area. The elevator was way too slow. ( If anyone has discovered who he really is ... ) Nick panicked. He stopped short as he entered the cell area.

Karol Wojtyla was standing inside one of the cells. He made the sign of the cross over the body of one of the prisoners. "Rest in peace, my son." He said softly. He turned to Dr. Lambert. "He's gone."

Natalie came into the cell made a quick check of the prisoner's vital signs. "Time of death 1:28 AM." She said sadly. Then she picked up a small towel and reverently placed it over the man's face.

"What are you doing down here?" Nick asked. Anger and relief battled for emotional dominance. Relief won. "You were supposed to wait for me in the front."

"Can't you see? He's giving the man the Last Rites?" Reese answered. "The prisoner took a heart attack and he asked for a priest. When the guard went upstairs to have Vera call for one, your friend said he was a priest and volunteered to help."

"It's a good thing we were both there." Natalie continued. "I was bringing some reports in when the guard came to the desk." She shook her head slowly. "But unlike your friend, there was nothing I could do to help him. He was beyond medical help. His body was already shutting down by the time we got here. He wouldn't have lasted long enough to get a priest from St. John's."

Karol smiled softly. "I may not have functioned as a parish priest for quite a while, but I have not forgotten how. I was glad I could help out." He turned to Reese. "And it's now called the Sacrament of the Sick, not the Last Rites." He corrected.

"So what do I know?" Reese said sheepishly. "I'm a Baptist." He looked at Nick angrily. "Speaking of helping ... Aren't you supposed to be guarding the Pope? What are you doing here? With ... him?"

"Do not be so upset ... Detective ... ah ... " Lolek hesitated.

"Reese. And it's ... Captain Reese. I'm Detective Knight's commanding officer, and I'll be upset if I want to be. What he's doing is against all regulations and it ... "

"Captain Reese." Lolek calmly interrupted. "I can assure you, the Pope is in very good hands. I am one of his entourage ... so to speak. I am with him wherever he goes. Nicholas, here is the ... grandson of an old friend of mine. I spoke with the Holy Father about our spending a few hours together, and he said that he did not mind. In fact, he was all for it. You might say we are here with his blessing."

"Well, I guess if the Pope don't mind, I sure don't." Reese said with a sigh of relief. He glared at Nick with a you-haven't-heard-the-last-of-this look in his eyes. "Thanks again for helping out, Father... ah ... "

"Lolek. Father Lolek." He held his hand to the Captain and the Captain shook it. Then he took Natalie's hand in his and gently kissed the back. "It has been a true pleasure to meet you, Dottoressa (Doctor) Lambert."

&&&&&&&&&&

**Toronto 2005**

"You mean to tell me that Father Lolek was really the Pope? I met the Pope and you didn't say anything to me about it?" Natalie said angrily. "How could you ... "

"I couldn't say anything to anybody." Nick replied. "If anyone would have found out who he was, they would have dragged him back to the Archbishop's residence so fast it would have been nothing but a blur. And then they probably would have chained him to the bed each night to make sure that he never did it again. Not to mention what Reese would have done to me. It could have even mushroomed into some kind of an international ... incident, too. That would have definitely left all of us with egg on our faces. From the Prime Minister on down."

"I guess I can understand that. Of course, that doesn't mean I'm going to forgive you anytime soon."

&&&&&&&&&&

**Toronto 2002**

"Do you think I will have to confess what I said back there?" Karol said as they left the precinct. "It wasn't exactly a lie, but then again, it wasn't exactly the truth, either."

"You're asking me?" Nick replied. "Someone who hasn't been to confession in almost 800 years?"

"Then perhaps it is time you went. God is always willing to welcome back any sinner, no matter how long he has been away. Remember the parable of the prodigal son?"

"But I am so much more than a sinner, Lolek. You remember what I told you those many years ago in Krakow. There is no salvation for me. I am a vampire. A creature of evil and condemnation."

" … Who does not want to be what he is. You also said you were looking for a way to undo this curse, as you call it. A way back."

Nick nodded sadly. "Natalie ... Dr. Lambert ... has been working to help me find a cure. But so far ... " He shook his head forlornly. " ... Twelve years ... nothing."

"You love her, don't you." It was not a question.

"We're ... just friends." ( I love her with all that I am. All that I ever will be. )

"And I'm the pope." He suddenly had an impish-little-boy look about him. "Come to think of it, I really AM the Pope, aren't I? Try again, Klaus. I have seen ... that look ... too many times not to know love when I see it."

"Our relationship is very ... complicated. As long as I am ... what I am, we can never be together, so it is better if we do not even try to take it beyond friendship." ( I want to take the next step. I NEED to take the next step. But I can't condemn her to this accursed eternity of damnation and darkness. )

"I can understand that. But it does not negate the fact that you love her deeply, and if I am any judge of people, she loves you just as intensely."

"Can we please change the subject?" ( I should have kept on going after that night in the morgue. I never should have gotten involved. )

"As you wish. I can see that your relationship with the Doctor is a difficult one. You were telling me earlier about this all night restaurant? Shall we try it? I, for one, am starved."

&&&&&&&&&&

Nick parked the Caddy in front of the restaurant. "While it's not exactly five stars, the food is good, and there is plenty of it. I have it on excellent authority that this place serves the best Polish food this side of Poland. It was a favorite of my ... former partner, Don Schanke. He was Polish, so I figure he ought to know. According to him, they make a pierogi platter that is to die for. ... And those were his very words."

"Pierogi." Karol had a faraway look in his eyes. "I haven't had pierogi in ages. For some reason, everyone thinks it is too ... common a meal to serve to the Supreme Pontiff. Let's see if your partner is ... or is that ... was ... correct."

"It's ... it's a was. He died six years ago. Plane crash." The pain on Nick's face was so deep, it was almost tangible.

"I'm sorry. You miss him very much, don't you?"

Nick closed his eyes and nodded slowly. Hundreds of memories of Donald G. Schanke flooded his mind.

"I shall pray for Donald's soul tonight." His face brightened. "Now, however, let's get some food."

They found a table and in a few minutes, the waitress came over.

"I'll have the kartofel (potato) pierogi platter." Karol looked at Nick. "With regular gravy. No garlic. And two beers."

"Pierogi? No garlic gravy?" The waitress looked at him as though he had committed the unpardonable sin.

"Just a little bit won't hurt." Nick said. "If I can stand Don Schanke eating souvlaki, I can certainly tolerate Lolek eating pierogi."

Both Lolek and the waitress looked as though a great weight had been taken off their shoulders. "One potato pierogi platter. Easy on the garlic gravy." She said as she walked back to the kitchen.

A few minutes later, she brought them their beers. "You look familiar. Have I seen you before?" She asked Lolek.

"I don't think so." He replied. "I'm not from around here. I'm visiting some ... friends." ( About 900,000 ... friends. ) "I'll only be in town for a few days."

"One pierogi platter ... half regular and half garlic gravy." She said as she brought the food. "I finally figured it out who you look like. Carroll. You know. Carroll What's-His-Name. That actor. The guy who played on All In The Family."

"That could very well be. I've been told I have that kind of a face. It reminds almost everyone of someone. I've even been told I look a little like the Pope."

The waitress studied his face for a few minutes. "Na-a-a-h. Definitely Carroll What's-His-Name." She hurried to the next table.

Lolek let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "I told you." He said to Nick with a grin. "They see what they want to see." He took a bite of one of the pierogi rounds. "Your partner was right. This is the best pierogi I've had in a long time." He raised his glass. "To Don Schanke."

"To Don Schanke." Nick repeated, clinking his glass to Karol's. "And to Lolek Wojtyla. Two of the best friends a man could ever have."

&&&&&&&&&&

Nick pulled the Caddy up to the rear entrance to the Chancery. He 'suggested' to the guard at the back door that he had not seen them enter the building either. It only reinforced the similar 'suggestion' he had given the guard when they left.

They stopped at his door. "Well, Klaus. I thank you. Karol Wojtyla thanks you. And Lolek thanks you as well. I have had a very enjoyable evening. Seeing the city from the very top of the CN tower was such a thrill. Not to mention the way we got there. I've never flown without using at least a helicopter." Pope John Paul II put his hands on Nick's head and made a small sign of the cross well into his hairline. Any welting or blistering would not show there. It burned slightly, but Nick could easily stand the minor pain.

"Thank you, Your ... Lolek. I had a good time too. I know it was the company." Nick said. "You understand of course, we don't dare do this again. We were luckier than we had a right to be ... this time."

"I know. We really pushed the ... bag to the limit."

"The envelope."

"The envelope." Karol had a roguish smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. "But it was worth it. Good night, Klaus." He opened the door to his quarters and went inside.

"Good night, Lolek."

&&&&&&&&&&

**Toronto 2005**

"I didn't see him again except in an official capacity. Usually when I was on duty, he was asleep. And I checked. He really was asleep. Any other time, like he said, he was constantly surrounded by a multitude of staff, government and religious officials, and other celebrities. The media followed him everywhere, too. At these times I was lucky to get even a glimpse of the back of his head through the crowds."

"And what did LaCroix have to say about your little ... escapade? Come to think of it, where was the old demon? I don't remember seeing him at all while the Pope was in town."

"That's because he left town. He claimed that all that religious fervor played havoc with his digestive system. He did have quite a bit to say when he returned, though."

&&&&&&&&&&

**Toronto 2002**

Nicholas slammed into the wall hard enough that he saw stars. His shirt was torn where LaCroix had grabbed him and hurled him toward the mantelpiece. He had missed that structure by mere centimeters.

"Don't you DARE do ANYTHING like that EVER AGAIN!" Lucien LaCroix hissed at his son. His eyes were glowing orange and his fangs were fully extended.

"What are you talking about?" Nicholas asked. That earned him a resounding backhand across the face. The ancient Roman's ring tore a three inch gash in Nicholas's cheek.

"You know full well what I'm talking about. You and that ... that ... religious friend of yours."

"You mean Pope John Paul?"

Yes. HIM."

"I was merely one of the people assigned to guard him while he was here."

"You were SEEN with him. IN PUBLIC no less. Thank the gods it was one of ... us that saw you, and not one of ... " It was obvious to both of them who he was referring to. "I WILL NOT tolerate that sort of flagrant behavior! He knows entirely too much about us. By your thoughtless actions, you have placed the ENTIRE Community at risk. And there's nothing we can do about it ... Not now. It's too late now. He is far too prominent a person. If we try anything, it would be the certain destruction of our way of life. You should have gotten rid of him when you two first met."

"You knew about that?"

"Of course I knew about you and that ... PRIEST." Coming from LaCroix, it sounded like an epithet. "Don't you realize that I know everything when it comes to you? I chose not to do anything at that time because I thought it would just be a passing thing. Apparently, I was wrong."

"But he has placed his knowledge under the seal of confession. He has not said anything in all this time. What makes you think he's going to say anything now?"

"I don't care if he placed it under the Good Housekeeping Seal!" The General pulled Nicholas's face close to his. Nicholas could feel the icy breath on his cheek. "He should have been dealt with fifty years ago. That way he WOULD NOT have been able to say anything."

"But that would have changed the entire course of history as we know it."

"History has been changed so many times, it is impossible to say which path should have been the correct course. I do not care about history. I only care about you. And the Community. And because of your irresponsible behavior where this ... person is concerned, both are in serious jeopardy."

"If you have known about my friendship with Karol Wojtyla all these years, it's reasonable to assume that the Enforcers have known about him, too. If they haven't done anything by now, why is it so important to you?"

The blow knocked several of the detective's teeth loose. "Because YOU are my SON! I WILL NOT have you consorting with THOSE kinds of people. You belong with your own kind. You belong to ME. Not to THEM!"

"I belong to NO ONE. Least of all, you. Them ... as you say ... are more my kind than you will ever be."

"I MADE you. You are MY creation. YOU ARE like me. YOU WILL ALWAYS be like me."

"I will NEVER be like you!"

"You are a VAMPIRE! You will ALWAYS be a vampire! THIS is what you are." He let his eyes go completely red and his fangs drop once again. "And THIS is what you will ALWAYS be! Do I have to chain you in a dungeon for a century or two to teach you what you already know? That you are playing a dangerous game with these ... mortals. You WILL NOT succeed. You CANNOT succeed!" A savage blow to the head sent Nicholas careening across the room again. This time he did hit the corner of the massive mantle. He did not get up quite as fast as he had before. By the time he did, Lucien LaCroix was gone.

&&&&&&&&&&

**Toronto 2005**

"Oh, Nick." Natalie said as she took his hand in hers. "Why do you let him do these things to you? LaCroix was way out of line."

"I couldn't say or do anything at that time. Not without violating my confidence to Lolek. Besides, LaCroix has always been that way, and he always will be. I've endured a lot worse treatment from him than that. In a few months, everything was back to normal. At least as normal as it could be where LaCroix is involved." Nick left the room and returned a few minutes later with a sealed padded mailing envelope with the Vatican post mark on it.

"This arrived a few weeks after the Pope returned to Rome."

"What is it?"

"I don't know. I never opened it."

"Why not?"

"Maybe I was afraid. Or ashamed. Or maybe I'm unworthy. I don't know."

"Why don't you open it now? I'm sure that the Po ... Lolek ... would not have wanted you to put it away with your other ... keepsakes without at least knowing what was in it."

He opened the envelope and took out a letter. It read:

My dear friend Klaus

Thank you so much for our time together. It is not often these days that I can go freely into the city like we did. It gives me a fresh new approach to my faith whenever I can. It meant so much more to me that I was able to do it with you.

Enclosed is a small token of my appreciation. I know you cannot handle it at this time, but perhaps, if - no make that when you do realize your quest - and I have every faith that you will - you may be able to use it. I shall pray that day happens very soon. If, by the grace of God, I am still on this plane of existence when that happens, I hope to be able to bless you as you deserve to be blessed.

Until then, Klaus - Maggio i benedetto del Nostro Signore Jesu Christo vengono su voi e su tutti che giudicate caro, e rimanga con voi ora e per sempre. (May the blessing of Our Lord Jesus Christ come upon you and all that you hold dear, and remain with you now and forever.)

With all my love,

Lolek

He took out a small brown suede covered box with the Papal seal imprinted on it. Reverently, he opened it. Inside, lying on a brown velvet liner, was a silver cut crystal rosary. Gently, he lifted it from the box and cradled it in his hand. After a few seconds, he looked at Natalie, a smile on his face. "Look! It isn't burning! It feels hot, just like he always felt, but it's not burning."

He held the rosary to the ceiling. "Jest dla was , Lolek. (This is for you, Lolek.)" He said softly. He lifted the crucifix to his forehead. "In nomine Patri, et Filii, et Spiritu Sancti ... "

&&&&&&&&&&

The translations used here were provided by an online translator. Blame that if they aren't completely accurate. Our combined knowledge of Polish does not extend much beyond 'kielbasa' (a polish sausage) and our Russian is not even that good. (If you don't count 'vodka' or 'nyet'.) Our Italian will only get us to the nearest restroom. The Latin is from an old prayer book.

Pronounciations: (Again from the online translator)

Zagranechne - Sag-ran-each nee

Mariszka Dzrojehmn - Ma-rish-ka Sh-ro-man (My ex husband's grandmother, who incidentally came from Hungary, not Poland.)

Pomylony Dziwniejszy - pom-i-low-nee shiw-nee-zee

Rosyjski zolnier - Rose-e-skee Sol-near

Jest dla was - Yest laa was

Pierogi is a golf ball sized potato, cheese or beef sphere encased in a pasta type dough and boiled. It is served with a spicy garlic gravy.

&&&&&&&&&&

**The end?**

**Karol Josef Wojtyla**

**Pope John Paul II**

**1920 - 2005**

**Requiescat en Pace**

**Santo Subito!**


End file.
